Captivity Meme, anyone?
May. 13th, 2012 09:50 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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You've been captured -- or maybe you've been held captive for a while now. Whatever the case, you've lost your freedom, and there's a specific person responsible for that. You might be a prisoner, a mental patient, a kidnap victim, or someone's pet. Maybe you're there willingly, or maybe the choice has been taken away from you completely.
Both smut and non-smut scenarios are possible. If you don't want to play smut, please indicate so in the title line of your tag.
1. Leave a tag with your character. Be sure to include any limits on what you are willing to play, as this meme has the potential to be triggering.
2. Someone else tags in and uses RNG to generate a number between 1 and 9 (or pick your favorite). The second character is holding the first character captive now.
3. ???
4. Profit!
1. For their own good. Does this person really think they could make it on their own? It's a big, scary world out there, and you need to protect them from it, whether they like it or not.
2. For the good of society. Forget protecting this person -- it's your duty to protect the world from them! Maybe they committed a terrible crime, or maybe they were falsely condemned, but it's your job to keep them locked up where they can't do any more harm.
3. Because they're not well. How's your bedside manner? Whether you're Florence Nightingale or Mildred Ratched, you're in the position of ministering to the mentally ill. Maybe this person genuinely needs your help, or maybe you're just turning a blind eye to their true sanity.
4. For the money. Higher aims? What higher aims? This person is your meal ticket, and they're staying put until their loved ones pay up.
5. For their love. It might be a case of yandere, or it might be a consenting BDSM relationship. Whether it's by mutual agreement or by force, you're keeping them simply because you love them.
6. Because they're cute and fluffy. Who's a cutesy wutesy? They are! Yes, they are! This person is your pet now. Maybe they're a different species from you, or maybe you just don't care that you're both people. Maybe you're even an alien zookeeper looking after a new acquisition.
7. Because they're your property. Slave? Livestock? Who cares what they think - they're your property, and you decide their fate.
8. For the lulz. Hey, what's a little bondage between friends? You'll let them go, once you're done laughing and snapping photos... maybe.
9. Choose a scenario, or combine several.
[I seriously need icons but my computer cannot handle Paint. D: ]
Date: 2012-05-15 03:01 am (UTC)I think I killed - or at least knocked out - the skinny one, but the other, Hidari, he's got some shiny glittery shit going on around his waist and motherfuck, I thought Marvey-tachi were the only ones who could still use their Ranger Keys.
Except. That's not a Ranger Key.
And that's CERTAINLY not a Ranger uniform.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
I throw the Rapparatta aside as I call the red haze around me - damn bugle is obviously not what I need right now. I need armor and power, not this squishy human-shape body, and as my form shifts, bone and scale and leather rippling around my limbs, I smile and it's all teeth.
I'm going to enjoy using this not-Ranger as a punching bag.
[Send me the pics you want and I'll make icons happen. ^.^]
Date: 2012-05-15 03:09 am (UTC)And then he turns into a large, armored monster, and I'm suddenly far less confident.
"Philip! What is he?" It might even be moot at this point, but I figure I might as well ask as I pull back and aim my best punch at his face.
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Date: 2012-05-15 03:19 am (UTC)Which means this transformation is natural to him.
We might have to try several other versions of W, and reconfigure to FangJoker if needs be. In the meantime, if Shotarou can fight, I can try to find a weak point.
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Date: 2012-05-15 03:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-05-15 03:56 am (UTC)Damn, he's a good fighter. I definitely don't see that often in dopants. But all I need to do is stall him to buy Philip the time he needs to figure something out.
And, not to mention, I'd rather not fight in the office.
I take a few weaving steps backward, trying to make it look like I'm trying to buy distance instead of bolt for it. I'm willing to wager he'll follow me.
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Date: 2012-05-15 04:10 am (UTC)There is no doubt a weakness in the armor. Joints are particularly vulnerable, as Shotarou well knows.
"Shotarou," I tell him, "He is a humanoid. We should be able to discover some standard weaknesses."
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Date: 2012-05-15 06:49 pm (UTC)Furniture crunches as I dart to the side, giving W the breathing space he's desperately trying to find; the terrain doesn't matter to me, and I dart in again, this time towards his right side.
He's been mostly swinging at me with his left hand; judging an opportunity for weakness, I close distance and call a ball of glowing, liquid ouch into my palm. Let's see how well he likes it applied to his weaker right side's ribcage. I hope I'm close enough to hear all the lovely crunches when his bones break.
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Date: 2012-05-15 07:19 pm (UTC)My vision shimmers silver and I can feel the added weight of Metal as the staff materializes in my hand, right in our attacker's path. If I'm lucky he'll trip and that'll buy us the time to get out the door.
[Jumping rhythm this once since it makes sense to answer the staff]
Date: 2012-05-15 07:26 pm (UTC)The not-Ranger has changed colors - well, partially - and that much, at least, is familiar from my experience fighting the Gokaigers. He's gained a staff, but I feel like I've gained some familiar ground to stand on in all this not-the-way-I-planned-it-ness.
I stomp on the end of the staff that W extends towards me, meaning to snap it. Instead, it holds, not even bending, and the force of my leg rebounds on me, throwing me backwards half a pace.
"Tch." I sneer at W, circling; the power still glows in my palm, since I haven't yet had the chance to strike with it. I flare it brighter and bigger, hoping to intimidate him.
"So you can fight a bit," I taunt him. Angry opponents are the easiest - they make stupid mistakes. Hopefully, this one is easy to rile. "What are you, that you can still henshin despite the War? Where have you hidden your Ultimate Power?"
[Slow mun is slow and occasionally skippable]
Date: 2012-05-16 01:32 am (UTC)I let Shotarou lead the way as he attempts to get the intruder out of the Agency. Once we're in a better space, I'll change to Luna, to pull our opponent off balance.
"Perhaps between the legs?" I suggest.
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Date: 2012-05-16 02:13 am (UTC)Still, just because he's talking now doesn't mean he's going to stay that way. "Is that seriously the best...ah, mou," I grumble back at Philip, but can't deny the feasibility of it. I twirl the staff around as carefully as possible, then bring it right up between the guy's legs.
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Date: 2012-05-16 08:04 pm (UTC)This guy isn't like any I've fought before. And Kamen Rider -- again, not familiar to me. And yet he's calling ME clueless? How dare he. I am a greater creature than him - more powerful, more ruthless, more deserving of the Powers. I understand how the give to get works. I may not know what 'Kamen Rider' means, but I don't need to know his name to destroy him.
And yet he dares.
I roar, vision hazing over in furious red shades. I'm busy trying to figure out how best to verbally dissect this insect when a sharp pain bursts through my armor, knocking me to one knee. Brief clarity, outside my bloodlust, follows the pain. He's distracted me, taken advantage of that opening, and even successfully stunned me.
Vision swimming, I gather both hands together, flare power in that cradle, and send it shooting straight at my opponent's gut. I will destroy him for this.
And...toku transition time!
Date: 2012-05-16 08:16 pm (UTC)Re: And...toku transition time!
Date: 2012-05-16 09:09 pm (UTC)I pursue him as he rabbits, using my superior speed to pull slightly ahead of him and cut off his path. We're in a building yard, full of dirt mounds and stacks of cement sewage pipes.
W, whatever he is, hasn't quite reached the ideal fighting ground in this area - I can at least recognise that his fighting skill is high enough that he can read the terrain as I do. I've blocked him from the best position but I can't reach it either - but there's a lot of space for us to spread out, and if I can make this a ranged fight I'm certain I'll paint my hands with W's blood in a matter of minutes.
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Date: 2012-05-16 09:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-05-16 09:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-05-16 11:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-05-17 02:56 am (UTC)Let's see how he plans on doing this.
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Date: 2012-05-17 03:38 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-05-17 04:39 am (UTC)There's something at our backs - some sense causes me to move our head so that I can look backwards a little. "Shotarou!" I shout, but I doubt he needs that to let him know that there is a wave of energy coming right at us.
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Date: 2012-05-17 01:42 pm (UTC)Let's see him dodge that.
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Date: 2012-05-17 03:43 pm (UTC)As soon as they've gained altitude, their paths bend, and I have the measure of them: guided missiles. Ah.
"Do you think that's enough?" I shout at W, sneering. Just before the missiles reach me, I call my defensive shield to the fore; a reddish bubble surrounds me, strong enough that it's easily dispelled the Gokaigers' bullets, Scrambles, and more.
These yellowy missile shots are strangely tenacious, though; my barrier holds easily, but instead of exploding, exhausting their energy and falling unspent to the ground, or ricocheting off, the missiles simply...remain, nose-first against my barrier. Some slide along the curve of it, like water droplets around a ball; but they all remain nose-towards me, and if I drop my barrier, they'll probably just carry right on towards their target.
Persistent fucks, these missiles and W both.
"I'm growing tired of your uselessness," I tell this 'Kamen Rider', the growl in my voice driven by my own frustration as well as the need to give him no hint exactly how perplexed I truly am. "I'm clearly wasting my time on someone as pathetic as you."
no subject
Date: 2012-05-18 02:04 am (UTC)Our opponent's frustration is tangible; as Shotarou is fond of pointing out, frustration makes an opponent take foolish risks. It is only a matter of time before the stalemate is broken, but hopefully it will give us enough time to return to our feet.
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Date: 2012-05-18 03:34 pm (UTC)Our attacker isn't moving any time soon, but then again, he might be about willing to give up and move on. I'd still love to know exactly what he was really trying to gain here - other than our supposed 'ultimate power' - but if he's going to go and stay gone, I'll happily take that instead.
I try to crawl to my feet, but they give out and we end up face down in the dirt. This isn't working. I fire off a few more shots in his general direction, then go about rolling behind the next set of concrete pipes.
no subject
Date: 2012-05-18 06:03 pm (UTC)As another volley of yellow-blue buzzy little fuckers comes sailing toward me from W's direction, I draw my energy bubble in toward my body, til it's just barely enough to cover. Then, with an effort, I thrust it out til it pops, exploding outward. Some of the missiles explode as the burst of my energy triggers them; the rest are pushed back one or two more scant meters, and that's enough room to give me an escape route. Cursing the city, the rumors that sent me here, and above all the monumental fuckjob that is Kamen Rider W, I drop my defensive wall, throw all my energy into my legs, and get my ass out of there in a burst of speed that barely registers as sub-sonic.
The missiles, pushing in towards the center of my bubble from all angles, finally regain forward momentum as soon as it is destroyed. I'm out of there fast enough that missiles to either side of me strike through to the middle, colliding with each other instead of my ass.
I'm two kilos away before I drop speed, grinding my teeth so hard they creak. "Fuck you, W, fuck you and your stupid nonpower. Fuck you, Rapparatta, you stupid piece of shit, and fuck--"
BAM. One missile must have been smart enough - or lucky enough - to dodge the self-immolation of the others. This far out from its source, it's not flying hard or fast enough to injure me -- but it's got plenty of force to smack me hard upside the head, making me trip over my own feet and skid to an utterly exasperated halt.
I stand still for a moment, trying to breathe deeply and slowly (old habits die hard) to calm myself down. Being irrational and having a public tantrum will do nothing towards removing W's head from his body. Heads from his bodies. However that works.
I let out a deep breath, growling. Okay. Okay. Fine, fine. I'm cool. I'm fine.
I flip open my cell, dialing a very familiar number. He probably won't answer, but if he does, I'm quite curious what his plans are on Saturday. Maiming with a side of witty banter?